


beach baby

by inmyrosegarden



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Deaf Character, Domestic Violence, I don't know what I've done, Kid Fic, M/M, Please Forgive me, deaf!harry, kid!larry, poem fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:59:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyrosegarden/pseuds/inmyrosegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>there's silence. all he sees is louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beach baby

**Author's Note:**

> **warning: this piece contains a major character death as well as mentions of domestic violence. ******
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> something about this was inspired by 'beach baby' by bon iver. also i am sad

ever since

he was a little boy,

his mum would tell him—

through signs,

not words,

because he could never

understand those—

that he is special.

 

she says that,

once upon a time--

when she was madly in love with his father,

who used to be madly in love with her too—

every fiber of their beings

burned with a passion

so bright and so

astounding

that they would always

show each other

how in love they were.

 

harry only understands

what that means

when he turns twelve

and gemma signs him some

obnoxious

dirty things

explaining what their parents did

to make

the two of them.

(and that’s when

harry gets nauseous because

ew.)

 

even so,

harry always sighs dramatically

upon hearing his mum’s story

because really,

he can’t imagine

being in love so much

that your insides feel like

they’re on

fire.

he thinks his mum is

lucky

to have experienced that feeling

twice—

once with his daddy

and once with robin.

he wonders

if maybe a time will come

when he feels that passion

too.

he really hopes

he gets to

experience that in his life.

he hopes that the

love

that he

finds

is so

loud

that it

overcomes the fact that

he cannot hear.

 

“you’re a beach baby,”

harry’s mum tells him when

he’s 16.

“you were made

on the beach.”

 

and harry gags,

even though he can’t hear what

it sounds like

and signs to his mum,

_gross._

 

she laughs,

and then goes quiet suddenly.

her eyes turn dark

and her lips set into a frown.

she looks pale.

she always looks pale

after she tells harry

about his father.

but he can’t help it if he

wants to learn about him.

 

harry thinks she’s scared.

she has every right to be

because he

beat her

when harry was only in her tummy.

and harry’s nana

tells him that

his mum

was under a lot of pressure,

stress,

at the

time.

nana tells him that

that’s why

harry is so special—

that’s why he can’t hear.

harry knows his mum beats herself up

about it

and he can’t help but feel

extremely badly

about that

because she is the most

beautiful woman

he knows and he

does not like

seeing her

sad.

he wants to make her smile,

wants to make her forget

about the past,

so he tells her,

using his long,

spidery fingers,

_if i’m a beach baby,_

_maybe i’ve got_

_sand stuck in my_

_ears._

_maybe that’s why_

_i’m special._

_maybe that’s why i cannot_

_hear._

 

his mum looks shocked,

surprised at the words

that have flown so

neatly

from her son’s hands

and into her heart.

her eyes get watery then

and she throws her head bad

like she is laughing.

or at least,

harry hopes

she is.

 

his mum never blames herself

for his disability again.

 

beach baby,

he is.

 

uni is difficult.

the area

in which harry resides

at eighteen

years old

is difficult.

there are gangs

and there are drugs

and there is an abundance of

alcohol.

but harry stays away from these things

because he does not

want to end up

like his daddy

who is sitting alone

in rehab somewhere.

no,

harry wants to find

love.

 

his mum and robin

insist on finding harry a nicer place

than the one they’ve got him,

but harry thinks

there is something

about all of this,

because fate placed him

here

in this beaten down

neighborhood.

 

the beach baby

doesn’t want

to test

fate.

he believes

as steadily as his heart beats

that fate

is something not

to be

toyed with.

 

the whole of the

first semester

is dull,

and harry really doesn’t

make any friends

because they can’t

communicate with him.

he does,

however,

notice a

boy

who lives in the

flats across from his.

 

the thing is,

harry enjoys studying outside

on his porch

because the wind pushes his curls

and lets them dance

in the wind,

ticking his cheeks

like his mum

used to when he was a little boy.

one night,

he is studying

and he sees this

boy

standing in the

balcony

across from his,

staring down at the

empty, dark

alley.

 

one of the boy’s cheeks

is bright red

and the other

is an ugly, mean

purple.

harry’s heart stutters

at the sight,

and in alarm,

he drops the book

that he was reading

and then, he watches it

fall

and fall some

more

until it hits the ground

below

with a barely audible

thud.

 

his heart picks up speed then

and he can feel it

thudding,

even in his

hands

when he grips onto the

balcony’s railing

tightly,

almost like he is

scared of falling too,

even though he knows he is not

a book,

and that he is too

heavy to fly away in the

wind.

 

he shakes his head and

takes a step back,

looking up suddenly and

unintentionally

meeting the eyes of the

boy

with the colorful

face

and the dancing

caramel hair.

 

he thinks the world must stop.

 

the boy smirks and

gestures

towards the book

lying on the ground beneath

them.

harry bites his lip and

nods,

foolishly,

turning on his

heel

and running downstairs

to retrieve his now

even more battered

copy of

_the catcher in the rye._

once he has

picked it up,

he looks back up

at the little balcony where

he saw the boy

standing,

only to notice

that he is no longer

there.

when he looks back down,

he notices that

the boy

is standing right in

front of him,

confused expression

on his face.

 

harry jumps,

surprised,

and the boy quirks

an eyebrow.

his lips move then,

but they’re too quick and

harry can’t

decipher the

words

which the boy has

undoubtedly

said.

 

panicking,

not wanting to lose this moment which

seems so important to him

for some reason

unbeknownst to

him,

harry gestures to the boy to

wait one minute

by sticking up his pointer finger

and pleading with his eyes.

the boy nods and cocks his head

to the side as

harry pulls out his phone

from his

pocket.

he types in,

_sorry._

_i’m harry and i’m deaf,_

and passes it over to the boy.

 

he tries to gauge the boy’s expression,

slumping in defeat once he sees

the boy’s mouth

hang open slightly.

he thinks it’s the end,

that nothing good will

come of this,

but before he can

gesture for his

phone back,

the boy begins typing into

harry’s phone.

 

when harry gets it back,

he reads it with his brows furrowed.

it says,

_hi harry._

_i’m louis and_

_i quite like that book._

 

harry looks up and beams

and louis smiles a small

smile back.

harry understands

that his face must

hurt,

so it doesn’t bother him that

louis looks so hesitant to

smile.

 

even this little smile

looks beautiful

from every angle.

 

harry asks louis

if he’d like to

come inside for tea,

and louis nods slowly,

almost like he’s unsure.

harry thinks louis would be biting his lip

but it’s too

swollen

and he supposes that

would hurt too

much.

 

they have tea in

silence

that is neither new

to harry

nor louis

(even though louis thinks

this is the first

ever safe

silence

that he has

experienced).

they write

out their conversation

back and forth

on the whiteboard

harry’s mum got him before he

moved.

 

they talk about their

family,

and louis tells harry he hasn’t seen his in

years,

and harry’s eyes

become sad

and louis writes,

_it’s okay_

and harry replies,

_why haven’t you seen them?_

 

louis sighs

and harry can only tell he is

nervous by the sudden

slump of his

shoulders.

harry continues,

_you don’t have to tell me_

_if you don’t_

_want to._

_just know i would never_

_judge you._

and louis nods,

hesitating slightly before,

finally,

he

uncaps his pen and simply

writes,

_they just never_

_agreed with my life_

_choices._

and that answer is actually

not simple at all,

harry realizes.

 

the beach baby has something

new to mull over

that night.

and because he keeps seeing

louis,

every day after that night

for an

hour or two,

he has someone to think about

and dream about and,

for the first time ever,

he is excited

and hopeful

for something he

is completely clueless

about.

 

louis is beautiful.

harry helps him treat the old cuts on his

arms

and his

face,

but he never asks louis

questions.

it’s because he knows that

louis needs time to

learn to

trust harry.

if he wants to

tell harry what

happened to him,

he will.

 

time passes and

louis gets a job in a

coffee shop.

his cuts are almost all

faint scars now,

and his eyes seem to

glow more than they

used to.

but even so,

harry thinks louis

is still

scared of something,

or maybe of someone.

so,

he tries to make louis

feel as safe as he

can

when louis is around him.

 

beach baby thinks that

he is maybe in

love

because louis is

beautiful

and funny

and he is trying to learn how to

sign

just for him.

and soon they don’t

even need the whiteboard anymore because

they can just

sit with each other and

make words with their fingers and

it excites harry so much that

louis is

as good as he is,

if not better.

louis is smart and

harry just wants him.

he doesn’t push it though,

because he never has

experienced this

feeling before and

now that he has,

he doesn’t want to rush it.

or rush louis.

 

he’s fine with things until

one night,

everything changes.

 

harry is washing the dishes

when he feels

his phone vibrate

in his pocket.

_please open the door,_

louis has sent.

harry smiles a little and turns off the tap,

wiping his hands on his

trousers

and walking to the door,

opening it without hesitating.

 

before he knows what’s going on,

he feels something—

or some _one,_ rather—

knock into him forcefully,

almost causing him to collapse on the ground.

he sees the doorknob release from

his hands

and he

instantly smells

_louis_

and he knows that the little

shaking

body in his arms

belongs to the boy

who he can’t seem to get

off of his mind.

harry feels his shirt

become wet

and he knows that louis

is sobbing,

because he is

shaking like a leaf with the

fear

or anxiety

that is racking through

his body.

harry feels his heart

pang,

as this is hurting him,

his eyes are

stinging because he

doesn’t want to see louis be sad.

 

he thinks louis should always be happy.

 

he always deserves to be happy.

 

even though he looks beautiful when he’s

sad too,

harry thinks

that louis looks _most_ beautiful

when he’s smiling.

so harry picks him up,

louis’ arms around harry’s neck

and his face

buried deep in harry’s chest,

and he takes him to his shabby little

living room,

where they then

sit on the sofa together,

louis in harry’s lap,

and harry cuddling louis

close to him.

 

he strokes louis’ hair and

rubs his back

gently until

louis stops shaking.

then,

it’s obvious that after some

deep breathing,

louis moves back

a little and turns so that

harry can see

louis’ hands clearly.

 

_i was in a relationship,_

louis starts,

_with a boy that_

_i thought loved me but_

_i found out_

_when he started hitting me_

_all the time_

_that he really didn’t._

_at first i didn’t realize that_

_he didn’t actually care for me_

_but then_

_my friends helped me see that_

_a healthy relationship_

_is not one in which_

_one person gets_

_abused._

 

harry’s eyes start to

water.

he clutches onto

louis’ leg,

(almost as though he is afraid that

louis will fly away

if _he_ doesn’t hold him).

 

louis sighs shakily.

_i moved here_

_and i met you and_

_i thought that_

_after all these months_

_he had forgotten_

_about me but—_

louis cuts off abruptly,

hands shaking,

whole body shaking,

too abruptly to continue.

_he’s found me again,_

_i’m sure of it,_

louis signs slowly,

bursting into tears then.

 

harry grabs louis and

cries with him

because he cannot stand

to see the boy he cares about

be in so much

pain.

 

harry pushes louis back and tells him,

_i want to protect you,_

_always,_

but louis shakes his head and explains,

_he’ll kill me, harry._

_he’ll kill you, too._

they both cry harder then,

clutching each other

in a daze.

when harry wakes up,

the sun is rising,

and louis is sleeping

in his arms.

 

harry wants this forever.

 

harry insists that louis

stays with him

for the next

week to come.

nothing fishy happens,

though,

so when louis says

he wants to go back to his flat

to pick up

a couple of things on

friday,

harry tells him okay and

_do you want me to go_

_with you?_

louis shakes his head no,

and tells harry to watch him

from the balcony, so

harry does.

 

it’s a good thing he’s looking

out.

or maybe,

it’s bad.

 

because harry sees a burley,

shifty looking

man

standing near the bushes

next to louis’

flat complex

and that man

meets the exact description

louis gave harry

of his ex.

 

harry starts to panic.

 

he doesn’t see louis

yet

so he runs as fast as he can,

tripping over his own feet,

heart pounding so loudly

in his

chest

that he thinks it’s about to

explode.

 

he runs

all the way through the hall

and all the way

down the flight of stairs

until he is on the

ground floor.

he doesn’t even

stop then, though.

he keeps running until

he sees louis,

and then,

he crashes into him

holding him tight,

so _tight,_

trying to _say_

his name.

 

louis is shaking,

because he has seen his ex

who has emerged

from the bushes

at the same time

harry crashed

into him.

 

his ex is watching

the scene in front of him

unravel.

he looks

angry,

is positively _shaking_ with

anger

and harry pulls off of louis,

gesturing to him,

signing,

_i love you more_

_than anything._

_i’m so in love with you, louis._

and then,

louis is

crying,

telling him,

_i love you, too._

and harry,

he looks up at

louis’ ex,

when he sees that louis’ eyes are

wide like saucers.

he sees then,

that the ugly

man

is yelling things

at louis

and louis is yelling things

back

and harry is clutching on

to louis’ hand,

feeling helpless

and it’s driving him

_insane,_

not being able to do

anything

to help

the boy he

loves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

something hits him in the chest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and there is that

silence

that harry will never

get used to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the last thing he

knows

is that he _hears--_

with his ears that have _never_ before

worked—

he hears

louis shriek,

“harry!”

even though

it’s muffled by a sob.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the beach baby

is flying

through the wind.

 

he used to think he never could.

 

the cool air

is whipping his curls

into his face

and he feels like his mum is

caressing his cheeks

so he

relaxes

and lets his insides

go up in flames

with the passion

that louis created

within him.

 

(the special beach baby is

gone

and he hopes that

one day

he gets to hear

the voice of his lover

when that beautiful boy

is no longer in

pain.

he hopes he gets to hear

his lover’s undoubtedly

beautiful laugh

someday.

he hopes that one day,

he can touch his lips to

louis’

because he never got to do

that.)

 

 

 

 

fate

cannot be

toyed with. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: txmlinsxn 
> 
> thank you. and sorry.


End file.
